


Que Sera

by wickedorin



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, But just a little angst, Gen, slash-ish leanings if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1720595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble written an extremely long time ago and never shared; Nero catches Dante in a private moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Que Sera

**Author's Note:**

> Ever manage to accidentally develop a somewhat vast headcanon, particularly about the nature of the relationship between two characters, but all that comes out is a little drabble that reflects almost none of that, which takes you four years to get around to sharing in the first place? Yeah. My "I tried" star is a wounded triangle.

When Nero returned to Devil May Cry, he fully expected to find Dante at the door with that asshole smirk, ready to taunt him for getting caught in a downpour. Not finding the man there was unnerving enough, but to see all of the lights off was even more so; especially when his eyes automatically adjusted the moment he closed the door behind him. Dante was there alright, but he'd turned the couch toward the big window and just seemed to be... staring. Silently. Even after several seconds of waiting, taking his coat off and shaking the water off to get a rise out of the older hunter, there wasn't a word, not a motion to turn toward him, nothing. "Sprung a leak?" he tried to make conversation against his better judgment.

No taunts. No sarcastic remarks. Just a quiet, matter-of-fact, "Nope."

Talk about walking right into the Twilight Zone. "Who died?" Despite the other man's snort, he knew he'd said a particularly fucking stupid thing.

Dante wasn't about to let him apologize. "Probably a lot of people. And not enough demons, I'm sure. Just taking a break tonight, kid."

Instead of bristling at that damn nickname, Nero knew to back down. There was something in the devil hunter's voice, something in his shoulders that insisted. "Yeah. Okay."

A vast maze of silence settled between them, more than a little unnatural. The sarcasm, the nicknames, the almost vicious teasing were all nowhere to be found. The ocean of quiet and distance grew, and while it was probably best that way--it wasn't. Not really. A flash of lightning seemed to break the spell with thunder close behind, bright enough to light them both as if it were daylight, loud enough to shake the building. Something greater than either of them still.

Another few seconds of stillness, silence, broken with uncharacteristic softness from the older man. "Just stay." Not begging, not telling, just inviting. When Nero turned and walked away, he held in a sigh. Yeah, he should have seen that one coming. Well, another night, another way to prove he was a fucking moron. Que sera and so it goes.

That was, until the kid returned with an open beer in each hand. Slipping one into Dante's grasp, he simply sat heavily on the other side of that beat-up couch and stared out the window like it was a big screen TV with one of those real quiet, boring sports.

 _Well._ He sure as hell wasn't going to say out loud, taking a drink. _Whaddya know._


End file.
